Resolutions
by Whispi
Summary: "The Doctor's new face looked oddly familiar. The hair-great hair!-the wonky eyebrows, even the brown suit. . . She could have sworn she'd seen them somewhere before! Much later, on New Years' Eve and on the cusp of 2007, she would remember, stuck in the parallel universe after Canary Wharf." Oneshot.


The Doctor's new face looked oddly familiar. Even months after he regenerated, Rose would catch herself staring at him sometimes when he was tinkering with the TARDIS or explaining in too much detail the culture of the planet of the hour. The hair-_great _hair!-the wonky eyebrows, even the brown suit. . .

She could have sworn she'd seen them somewhere before!

* * *

Much later, she would remember, stuck in the parallel universe after Canary Wharf. On New Years' Eve, on the cusp of 2007, she found herself lying on her bed for hours, looking at grainy pictures of the Doctor on her cell phone. In one he was running pell-mell out of a Roman bath in nothing but his long brown coat. There was a five-part series of the two of them covered in mud making silly faces up at the phone.

It had been a great year, 2005. . .

_Oh my God._

Two years ago exactly. Her hair had been longer, makeup more dramatic-well, she'd been much younger, hadn't she? Living in Powell Estate with her mum, having a happy New Years' with the neighbors. She'd been walking home when she'd heard a noise-coughing, it'd sounded like-coming from the shadow beneath one of the graffitied brick buildings.

She'd turned around, expecting to have to pull out her pepper spray, but all she saw was a man hunched over and leaning against the side of the building. "You alright, mate?"

"Yeah," he'd huffed out.

"Too much to drink?" It was a common problem in the Estates, after all.

"Something like that."

(In her bedroom, Rose smiled to herself. He'd probably tried to taste a firecracker, just to figure out what it was. . .)

"Maybe it's time you went home," she'd said.

"Yeah."

"Anyway, happy New Year."

"And you."

And then, he'd asked the oddest question. She'd been unable to figure out at the time: "What year is this?"

"Blimey, how much have you had?"

He'd shrugged rather sheepishly.

"2005, January the first," she'd answered. She remembered thinking him a bit pathetic at the time but having things put right in perspective when her mother finally staggered in the door of the apartment.

"2005. Tell you what," he'd said, sounding rather choked all of a sudden, "I bet you're going to have a really great year."

At the time, it had just been an unexpected kindness from a stranger, but now, as she lay curled in her new room two years later exactly, she knew it had been him. He'd come and visited her, before they'd met! (Well, before they'd met for her, at least.) But why? The romantic in her hoped that he'd wanted to see her face just one last time, after she'd been pulled into the parallel world.

But whatever the circumstances of his visit, he'd been right, hadn't he? Just months later, she had been locked in the basement at that awful job with those plastic mannequins that had seemed so terrible and impossible at the time. Plastered against the wall, thinking herself both insane and a goner. . .

He'd grabbed her hand, whispered, "Run!"

And they'd never stopped. They'd run from ghosts and Slitheen and werewolves and Daleks and Cybermen and so much else. She did love the running. But the best times were just after. They'd slam the door of the TARDIS behind them, barely able to breathe for laughter just as much as exhaustion. A hug, and a final look out the TARDIS windows before the Time Rotor would start whirring and the world outside would melt away.

Rose laughed to herself as she remembered her 2005 New Years' Resolutions, scrawled hastily in a diary she'd never bothered to keep up with. They'd had something to do with finding a better job and eating fewer chips. But oh, she'd done so much more!

2006 had been much too crazy a year to bother with resolutions. She'd been too busy saving the world from the Sycorax, as she recalled. But now she pulled out some scrap paper and a pen.

She took a long time to think, but by the end of the night she'd written down some good resolutions, ideas she felt she could really work for.

_Rose Tyler's Resolutions: 2007_

_Eat fewer chips._

_Find the Doctor again._

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are day-makers!**

** - Whispi**


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